


Never Wear White after Labor Day (Unless You Want to Get Laid)

by chilly_flame



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chilly_flame/pseuds/chilly_flame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A storm wreaks havoc on Emma’s afternoon. And then some.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Wear White after Labor Day (Unless You Want to Get Laid)

Title: Never Wear White after Labor Day (Unless You Want to Get Laid)

Author: [](http://chilly-flame.livejournal.com/profile)[**chilly_flame**](http://chilly-flame.livejournal.com/)

Fandom/pairing: Once Upon a Time, Emma/Regina

Rating: M

Word count: 5k+

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything related to ABC/Disney’s Once Upon a Time.

Notes: prompted by [](http://damelola.livejournal.com/profile)[**damelola**](http://damelola.livejournal.com/) , details at the end. Beta also by [](http://damelola.livejournal.com/profile)[**damelola**](http://damelola.livejournal.com/), with many thanks for her catching my inability to ever, ever spell Sheriff correctly. I have another prompt in my inbox soon to be filled, so that’s my next stop!

\---

“Sheriff Swan,” Emma answers on the first ring.

“Um, hello, Sheriff. This is Norris Templeton, I live two houses down from the Mayor. It’s hard to know for sure, but I think someone may be breaking into her house.”

Emma sits up so quickly the chair nearly tosses her on the floor. Henry’s at school, and the Mayor is undoubtedly at work, so that means trouble. “I’ll be right there.”

She calls Ruby on her cell as she dashes out to the squad car. Unfortunately, it’s pouring rain. “Hey Ruby, can you spot me at the station for a few? I’ve been called to the Mayor’s house for a potential break in.”

“Oh no!” Ruby says. “I’ll head over now. Gran—I gotta go to the Sheriff’s station,” Emma hears her shout away from the phone. “Do you want me to stay on the line in case you need back up?”

“Uh,” Emma says as she starts the prowler and hits the lights. “Yeah. I’ll put my earpiece on when I get there.” She drops the phone in her lap and steers carefully, speeding but at least pausing at stop signs. There’s no traffic on the road at two in the afternoon, fortunately, and she makes it to Regina’s in three minutes flat. She pulls her wooly hat over her Bluetooth as the rain falls in sheets so intense she can barely see. Once out of the car, she pulls her gun but leaves the safety on, because hell, the neighbor could have seen a raccoon in this weather and thought it was a criminal.

Nothing seems amiss in the front yard, and Emma reports into Ruby. “Front yard is clear, going around back.”

“Got it.”

Emma is silent as she creeps around the side of the house, not knowing what to expect. She holds her breath for a moment before exhaling to stay calm. _The best thing to do is be cool_ , she tells herself, _even when you can’t see for shit_. When she peeks around the house into the backyard, someone is fussing with the back door, yanking at the jamb. Emma tilts her head, blinking water out of her eyes, and grins.

“All clear, Ruby. It’s just a misunderstanding.”

“Sure?” Ruby asks.

“Yep.” Emma smirks as she holsters her weapon, relieved she never clicked the safety off. “Can you call Mr. Templeton back and let him know the issue is resolved?”

“You bet. Good job, Sheriff.”

Emma laughs, and pulls the damp earpiece off and shoves it in her pocket. It’s probably ruined, but she is about to be rewarded for her diligence. Because the person who is fussing with the back door, yanking the jamb, is wearing a short, white silky robe that’s clinging to her sleek body, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Dark hair hangs around her face; it’s the first time she’s ever seen the Mayor even remotely disheveled. “Oh, thank you, God,” she whispers herself, eyeing the enticing rear end currently shimmying back and forth in front of her grateful gaze.

“Something I can help you with, Madam Mayor?” Emma drawls, schooling her features into her “official yet helpful” expression.

Regina gasps when she turns around, putting a hand to her chest in the traditional damsel in distress gesture. “Goddamn it, Sheriff Swan, what are you doing here?”

Emma chokes slightly when she gets an eyeful of Regina’s breasts, outlined perfectly by the soaked robe. “Um,” she blinks, shaking her head against the rain. “Your neighbors spotted someone trying to break in. I’m just doing my duty.” She steps closer. “Can I help you with your door?”

Regina throws her head in a futile attempt to get the hair off her face. She opens her mouth, and Emma can sense the impending explosion. But all Regina says is, “Yes,” and shuts her mouth.

Emma does not smile, nor does she risk another look at Regina’s body, because she can’t handle the distraction. She’s going to have to jimmy the lock. From the inside pocket of her vest she pulls a slim black case, non-regulation, but that hasn’t stopped her from carrying it around. She pulls two silver tools from the kit and kneels, inserting one and then the other into the lock. Eyes closed, she goes by feel as she always has, and in seconds, she turns the knob and opens the door.

“There ya go,” Emma says, holding a hand out with a flourish. “Problem solved. I’ll just, uh--”

“You may as well come in,” Regina says. “I’ll get you a towel.” She doesn’t inquire further, assuming Emma will follow her as she strides into the house. Emma glances around, wondering if any of the neighbors is watching. She gives a wave to no one, she hopes, and goes inside.

Once indoors, Emma calls out since Regina has already disappeared from view. “Reg—I mean, Madam Mayor?” She pulls the hat from her head and stuffs it in jacket.

“Come in, I’ll be right down,” Regina replies from somewhere upstairs.

Emma is disappointed, because Regina will surely change into something a lot more comfortable and a lot less revealing. Damn. But when Regina returns to the kitchen, she’s wearing the exact same robe, which clings in the exact same way. Emma looks up at the ceiling, because in this light, Regina’s skin is darker, and smoother, and her nipples are hard from the chill. “Here you are,” Regina says as she holds out a towel. Emma reaches blindly to accept it, feeling nothing but air for the first few seconds. “What is wrong with you, Miss Swan?”

Emma swallows. “Nothing. Just give me the damn thing.” She is leaving a puddle of water on the kitchen floor, but she doesn’t much care. She doesn’t look down even when the towel is shoved into her hands. Rubbing her face dry, she tries not to smell the pleasant scent of Regina’s laundry detergent. She’s relieved she didn’t wear much make up today, so she won’t leave smears of mascara on this incredibly soft towel. “Thanks.”

Emma finally peers over at Regina, who is towel drying her hair. “Not that it’s any of your business,” Regina begins, as if Emma is forcing her to provide an explanation, “I spilled coffee on my suit just before lunch, so I came home to change. The storm had just started and I was in the shower--” Emma’s brain shorts out at the thought— “when something happened to the water pressure, so I went to check the line. And got locked out. I keep a key in one of those fake rocks for when Henry locks himself out, but he must have taken it and not replaced it. So I was—seriously Miss Swan, what is your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem,” Emma replies, looking out the window. Anywhere but at Regina, who is either deliberately taunting her or is totally oblivious about how hot she is soaking wet and half naked. She’s attractive enough fully dressed, but this? Emma should not have to suffer this punishment, not after saving the day.

“You’re not looking at me. What’s wrong--” Regina gasps, and this draws Emma’s attention. She’s looking down at herself, probably for the first time. She stares up at Emma, who immediately looks guilty. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Emma winces. “What did you want me to say? _I know you’re locked out, but what were you thinking wearing a white silk robe in the rain?_ Not likely.” She keeps her eyes trained on Regina’s forehead. Anything below that is a bad idea.

To Emma’s shock, Regina doesn’t bother covering up. “I hope no one else saw. I can imagine what Mr. Templeton would say. He tends to keep a close eye on the house. Or on me, rather, which I can’t say I enjoy.” Making things worse, she continues to leisurely towel dry her hair. Emma peeks, very briefly, and salivates at the delicious curve of breast revealed when the vee of Regina’s robe parts a couple of inches. Emma tries to look away but can’t, and there’s heat climbing up her chest despite her wet clothes. Her heart pounds in her ears.

A few moments later, she realizes Regina is no longer drying her hair. In fact, she isn’t moving at all. When Emma is able to look up, she wonders if Regina has hypnotized her in some fashion. “Um,” she says when she notices that Regina is staring at her now with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. “Right. So, okay. I’m uh, going.” She drops the towel on the kitchen island and bolts out the back door.

\---

Emma spends most of the afternoon cursing herself for being so obvious. The rest of the time, she tells herself that Regina didn’t notice anything. For a few minutes she believes that it’s only natural to admire a human body, and that if Regina ever brings it up again (which she won’t) Emma will pretend like nothing happened. Which is true. Nothing happened. Emma got to admire the side of a perfect breast for five seconds, and that was it. She’s seen more side-boob at the Oscars, so it’s not like it was anything obscene.

But this breast belongs to Regina. That makes it different. Emma’s been able to control her physical attraction to the Mayor very easily up until now, getting a nice little fix when she could get away with it and never, ever having daylight sex fantasies. As far as her dreams go, well, those aren’t her fault. But she can’t deny that the chemistry between them has a very specific tang.

She shuts her eyes and puts her head down on the desk. “Fuck,” she says to the empty room.

Henry arrives at 5, since tonight is their scheduled weekly dinner. Emma cooks for a change, since she learned that putting a number of store-bought ingredients together into a meal counts as cooking. They have pasta with a salad and garlic bread, which Henry loves. Emma wishes she could have a glass of wine but holds off, promising herself a drink at the bar later.

Emma doesn’t bother telling Henry that she broke into his house today while his mom looked on; she doubts Regina will tell him either. She’ll just pretend her whole afternoon never took place, and she’ll do her damndest to forget what Regina’s body looks like too.

Of course, when she drives Henry home, he makes her walk him all the way to the door. And just as Henry is getting out his key, the door swings open. Regina stands there in a staid black skirt and grey blouse. But Emma swallows when she realizes that the blouse is unbuttoned one extra button, and her black bra is just visible. She squeezes her eyes shut and turns to Henry. “Okay, kid, good night.”

Emma has already headed down the walk when Regina says, “Won’t you come in for a drink, Sheriff?”

Emma stiffens, stopping in her tracks. _Is she teasing me?_ “Pardon?” She turns around, expecting Regina’s cruel smirk. But instead there is a raised eyebrow that suggests interest rather than malice.

“A drink, Sheriff. You pour it in a glass and sip from it. I imagine you’ve heard of such a thing?”

“Well,” Emma says, “Yeah. I mean… seriously?”

Henry stands behind Regina, watching them both with a funny look on his face.

Regina frowns, a faint line appearing across her forehead. “If you’re too busy or have other plans--”

“No,” Emma cuts her off. “No plans.” She’ll have to text Mary Margaret that she’ll be late. But then again, this could be a quick visit. Maybe Regina is going to give her a drink, tell her to leave and then call some other police department to arrest her for drunk driving. Or slap her in the face for ogling her, or poison her drink, or…

“Are you coming inside, then?”

Emma blinks before she can convince her feet to move, shuffling over the wet pavement toward the door. She creeps inside, already feeling like she’s going to get smacked even though she wipes her feet on the mat.

“Sheriff Swan will tuck you in after you’ve done some homework, Henry,” Regina says, and Emma’s eyes grow wide.

Henry doesn’t go to bed for quite a while. _What the fuck?_

“Okay,” Henry says, smiling, but Emma can tell he’s as confused as she is. He hoists his backpack a little higher and goes upstairs without another word.

Emma looks up at Regina, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Regina says nothing. She steps into the study, where Emma hasn’t been since the first night they met so many months ago. Regina pours a tumbler of dark liquid, then asks, “What’ll it be?”

Emma didn’t think she’d have a choice. “What do you have?”

“Whiskey, vodka, tequila, bourbon, port, or of course, my own cider.”

Considering the options, Emma decides to go for the home court advantage. “Cider.”

Regina pauses in her movements, and Emma can sense her surprise. “All right. It’s as strong as a good red, so just keep that in mind.”

When she hands Emma the glass, she sniffs it. With one sip Emma feels the heat flowing down her chest, and decides to cause a little ruckus. Before Regina even sits, Emma decides to drain the glass. In seconds, the cider is gone, and Emma holds out the empty crystal.

Regina licks her lips in a gesture so overtly sexual that Emma blushes. “Another?”

“Hit me up, Mayor.” She can’t even blame the cider for loosening her tongue, since it hasn’t had a chance to work its magic. She’s riding a wave of confidence spurred on by that raised eyebrow and hesitant smile, and the fact that Regina even asked her inside.

Before Regina accepts Emma’s glass, she lifts her own and drinks it down in three long swallows.

Oh yes. Something is definitely different. Emma’s whole body feels flushed, and despite the inevitable heat in her cheeks, she doesn’t turn away.

Regina fixes two more drinks and passes one to Emma before settling across from her. Emma takes a quick sip, rolling the taste around on her tongue. “It’s good.”

“I spend a fair amount of time and effort making it, so thank you.”

They sit in silence for a very long minute before Emma asks, “What am I doing here, Madam Mayor?”

Regina takes a drink, watching Emma with lazy eyes. “Just having a nightcap.” Her gaze moves down Emma’s body, lingering and assessing what she sees. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

Emma’s mouth goes dry, and she licks her lips. “Having a nightcap.”

Regina lifts her glass in a silent toast. “Then we’re on the same page.” She crosses her legs, and Emma flicks her gaze to a knee. It’s an awfully pretty knee, so Emma watches it briefly, traveling down the length of shin and ankle and elegant high heel. She wonders how the back of the Mayor’s knee might taste.

And then in her mind’s eye, she really is licking the back of the Mayor’s knee, right here in this study, lifting it and nibbling her way across to a smooth thigh till her hands pull Regina down into a frantic kiss. The fantasy is so vivid that Emma actually startles herself when the drink in her hands begins to tip over. “Jeez. Sorry.”

Regina’s teeth bite into her lower lip as she swallows. “Feel all right, Sheriff?”

“Yeah,” Emma sighs, now unable to think about anything other than the olive skin she saw earlier today. Her eyes move along Regina’s collarbone and down her chest to the black lace beneath her shirt. “Just a little lightheaded, I think.” Lightheaded isn’t the word for it.

She feels drugged.

Emma sits up straight in the chair. “Did you just roofie me?”

Regina laughs. “Roofie? No, Sheriff. You watched me pour my own glass from the same decanter. I warned you that it’s strong. Although this particular brew contains a few… special properties, compared to my usual fare.”

Emma is angry, but the emotion translates itself in her brain into wanting to rip the Mayor’s shirt off. And want isn’t nearly strong enough of a word. “Properties? What the fuck does that mean?”

 “Don’t worry, Miss Swan. It’s all natural. I’ve found over the years that it has the gentlest suggestion of, well,” Regina ponders her next words, “ _removing inhibitions_. After today’s incident, I thought it might be time.”

Emma shakes her head, now convinced Regina’s perfume is seducing her from five feet away. “Incident? You mean when I saved your ass from getting stuck in the rain for the whole day?”

Regina’s smile is decidedly evil. “Indeed. And I believe you spent more than a few minutes checking out my ass in the process.”

“I did not!” Emma says, standing up quickly. She doesn’t get dizzy, but the angle just allows her to see a little farther down Regina’s blouse. “I did not. I did not check out your ass.” _And I am not checking out your boobs right now either_.

“I don’t mind, Sheriff. It’s been a long time since anyone’s been as interested as you are. And the feeling is mutual, I can assure you.” The sound of Regina’s voice flows down Emma’s spine, and it takes her a few seconds to realize what she’s just said.

“What?”

“I said, the feeling is mutual.” Regina gives Emma another casual once over, tilting her head as she pauses at her chest. Emma’s wearing a thin shirt over her tank and bra, and she is a little humiliated to feel her nipples harden at the perusal. “Oh my, yes. This is going to be very, very worth my time, Sheriff, if your reaction is any indication. I haven’t even touched you. Yet.”

Now Emma really does feel dizzy, because Regina has just implied not only that she’s going to touch her, but that it’s going to be good. “I don’t know if this is a smart idea.”

“What could possible be wrong about it?” Regina asks, finishing her drink and setting the empty glass on the side table.

Emma’s eyes slip shut, feeling a tingle between her legs as she imagines skin, and more skin, and more, right here in this room, on this carpet, on that sofa… “Because of Henry. It might get complicated.”

“Don’t worry, dear. It’s just sex.”

 _Is it?_ Emma thinks. Because her feelings for Regina Mills are way beyond sex right now, even if she can’t put them all into words. “I still think you roofied me,” Emma says, searching for any way to explain what’s happening between them.

“Whatever makes you feel better,” Regina tells her as she stands and steps forward, placing her hands on Emma’s waist. “Don’t you want to get started?’

“But Henry--”

Regina rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She goes to the study door and flips a lock. “Henry won’t interrupt. He’ll be in his room for at least an hour, and when we’re… finished, you can kiss him goodnight and be on your merry way. Seems like a perfect arrangement for someone who’s spent a lifetime avoiding commitment.”

“You’re not exactly endearing yourself to me, Madam Mayor,” Emma breathes when Regina returns and steps even closer.

“Isn’t this what you’d prefer?” Regina asks, eyes on Emma’s lips. “No commitment. No attachment. Just a physical encounter that we can experience and forget.”

Emma wants something like that, but she doesn’t think she’ll be able to stay away once she gets a first taste. “What if I wanted more than one night?” She blames that blasted cider for her loose lips.

For the first time, Regina looks surprised. “More?” She licks her lips again and seems pleased. “You’re surprising me, Sheriff. But I’m not entirely averse to the idea. If things go as well as I suspect they will.” She brushes her nose against Emma’s cheek, and they both shiver at the contact. “Mm. That could be just fine.”

Emma takes a chance and slides one hand along Regina’s hip, closing her eyes. “So we have an agreement?” She hates that she wants this woman, but it’s too late now for her to turn back. She can’t resist, and while the cider might have relaxed her, this has been bubbling underneath the surface for months. She just didn’t know the Mayor was feeling the same thing.

“Yes. Agreed.” Regina wets her lips. “Now, Sheriff, are you going to kiss me?”

Emma leans close and presses her thumb to Regina’s lower lip. “Just call me Emma, once, and I will.”

A hand yanks Emma’s belt forward, and they’re millimeters apart. “Emma,” Regina whispers, and then their mouths are fused, and Emma feels the thrill shoot up the back of her neck, right up through the top of her head. She opens her mouth and Regina’s tongue slips inside, and the feel of it does strange things to Emma’s body; everything tingles, everything throbs, and she’s probably going to come inside five minutes.

“Am I high?” Emma asks, moving her mouth along Regina’s neck, nibbling the tendons gently.

Regina chuckles, and Emma feels the sound in her sacrum. “Not yet. But you will be.”

Somewhere between standing together and lying on the carpet with Regina kneeling between her legs, Emma loses her clothes, and Regina does too. The fireplace behind her makes her feel like her head is aflame, and Regina’s skin glows as the light dances around her. Her smile is wicked, the scar on her lip standing out in sharp relief. She leans over Emma, hands at either side of her head, and teases with her mouth, the tip of her tongue, the ends of her hair. Emma writhes, trying to bring her legs together for some relief. When Emma is sure she can’t take anymore, Regina wastes no time and moves down, licking between Emma’s thighs.

“Oh fuck,” Emma breathes, lifting off the floor already.

When Regina pushes fingers inside, Emma’s head swims. Her breasts ache, and when she palms them, she cries out . “Shh,” Regina reminds her, and Emma watches the way her ass moves restlessly. She grabs at dark hair and pulls, gritting her teeth as Regina nips a breast and shoulder on her way up. She reaches for Regina’s mouth and tastes herself, strangely excited by the act. Regina’s hand continues to work, her thumb circling relentlessly. But it stutters in its motion when Emma finds her way between Regina’s legs to rub. She’s outrageously slick; if Emma had a doubt of Regina’s attraction to her, it’s gone now.

“Put your--” Emma says after breaking the kiss. “Here,” she breathes, nudging her leg toward Regina’s. She gets the idea, straddling her thigh and sliding along its length with a sigh of pleasure. She presses even closer, falling to one elbow at Emma’s side. Regina’s mouth opens against Emma’s chest as she rides her thigh, and each movement sends Emma closer to climax. She drops one knee wide, panting and holding Regina’s head to her breast. “Yeah,” she murmurs, and she hears an answering gasp in reply. Regina glances up, eyes almost black in the dim light, her expression one of pure desire.

“Close,” Regina huffs, grimacing, and seeing the desperate pleasure on her face gets Emma that much closer too. She can barely keep her eyes open, but when Regina’s thumb presses a little harder, Emma feels it start deep in her belly.

“I’m--” Emma begins, and the orgasm blooms within her, and snaps her mouth closed as a cry is about to leave her throat. Reaching down she holds Regina’s hand still as the tremors shoot through her, pulsing as she sees colors behind her eyelids.

Regina groans, moving for a few seconds until she stills, whole body quaking with climax. Emma manages to get her eyes open so as not to miss it, and when Regina throws her head back in ecstacy, it’s worth the effort. “Yes,” Regina hisses softly, jerking a couple of times, and only then does Emma realize how wet her thigh is.

“Oh my god,” Emma says, unable to contain herself. This is one of the hottest things she’s ever experienced, probably because Regina Mills is undoubtedly one of the hottest, most infuriating, most frustrating people she has ever seen, much less slept with. Before Regina can even come down from her orgasm, Emma tells her, “Yeah, I’m definitely going to want to do this again, okay?”

Regina licks her lips, breathing deeply a few times before she laughs. “I bet you think about your next meal while you’re still in the middle of your current one.”

Emma drags one damp hand up Regina’s body and cups a breast. “Of course I do.”

With dark eyes trained on Emma’s, Regina’s eyebrow lifts. “You know, this particular meal doesn’t have be over yet. That was just the appetizer. And after the main course I always enjoy dessert.”

Emma grins. “I am really, really glad it rained today,” she says as she rolls Regina over so she can be on top.

\---

Two hours and one hasty spongebath later, Emma sniffs herself. She doesn’t smell too strongly of sex, or of Regina, or even of cider. The buzz has worn off, and Emma downed two huge glasses of water while standing in the kitchen. She isn’t completely sure what Regina put in the cider, but whatever it was seems to be causing her no ill effects. That is, if she doesn’t count the pulled muscles in her left butt cheek and hip. Her three-mile run tomorrow morning is going to be an absolute bitch.

She climbs the stairs to say goodnight to Henry, wincing only a bit as her sore ass complains with each step. She leans into the room and finds Henry under the covers, flashlight on. “Hey, kid.”

Henry pushes the sheet down and shines his light directly in Emma’s eyes. “You’re still here?”

“Yeah. I told you I would be.” She holds a hand up to her face, and Henry swings the light away.

“I just—it’s been two hours. Have you and my mom actually been getting along this whole time?”

Emma is glad Henry’s room is dark, as she’s sure her face is about to turn red. “Yeah. We uh, talked a few things over. I might come around a little more often, if that’s cool.”

Henry looks excited. “Are you doing more research on the Evil Queen? For the plan?”

Emma shrugs, and steps inside the room to sit on the side of the bed. “Henry, listen, I think we should take a break on Operation Cobra for a while. I kind of want to get to know your mom and not worry so much about her being evil. I mean, things seem pretty good right now for both of us, don’t you think?”

Henry replies, “She’s been okay. She doesn’t argue with me when I have dinner with you. And she got me every new comic that came out last Wednesday, without me even asking. That was kind of cool.” He shakes his head. “But Emma, she’s still--”

“I know, kid, she’s still the Evil Queen. I get it. But even Evil Queens need a break once in a while from all the fighting. Give her a chance.”

“I guess. I’m glad you’re here to say good night, anyway. I’ll see you Friday after school, right?”

“Right. And hey, your mom mentioned that a key was missing from a fake rock in the backyard in case you forget yours. Can you replace it?”

Henry tilts his head. “Fake rock?”

“Yeah, by the back door.”

“Mom leaves the spare under the frog in the side garden. And I always replace it, believe me. I didn’t once and I got in big trouble.”

Emma considers this. “Oh. Right. Must have misunderstood.” She files away that little detail with a wry smile. “Sleep good, okay, kid?”

“Sure, Emma. See you soon.”

For the first time, Emma leans down and kisses her son’s forehead before he goes to sleep. The emotion that swells inside her is so deep and primal she’s shocked at the ache in her chest. “Love you, kid,” she mouths silently. He doesn’t reply, because he doesn’t hear.

She leaves Henry’s door ajar and takes the stairs slowly, hesitant to make her escape. Regina is waiting for her in the foyer, freshly showered and dressed in silk pajamas.

“You’re a lucky bitch, you know that?” Emma says wryly.

“Why is that?” Regina asks.

“Because you get to say goodnight to him, every single night.”

Regina’s knowing smile fades. “Well, yes,” she says, and Emma realizes she’s made an error in judgment. Henry probably hasn’t let her kiss him goodnight in a long time. “At least I know he’s safe.” That’s probably as close as Regina will come to admitting that things are not simpatico.

“Thanks, by the way. It was nice.” Emma watches as Regina wonders exactly which part of the evening is referring to. “I mean, all of it. Everything.”

“Mm,” Regina replies. “We’ll do it again soon.”

“We will,” Emma says, and wants to just walk out the door like she doesn’t give a shit about how beautiful Regina looks right now, her face scrubbed clean, her hair mussed from their earlier activities. But she can’t, and she grabs Regina around the waist and palms the back of her head before going in for a firm kiss. She moans at the flick of Regina’s tongue, opening her mouth and wishing for more. She backs Regina up against the wall, pressing their hips together as Regina shoves her hands into Emma’s hair. The kiss goes on for so long that Emma can tell she’s already wet again, even after three rounds in the study. “I won’t wait long,” Emma finally says when she pulls away. She already wants to reach down into Regina’s underwear, but they’re totally visible if Henry happens to come out of his bedroom, and that would be a bad thing.

Regina looks dizzy with want. “Yes,” she says, her brown eyes so beautiful it makes Emma freeze in place. No matter how this whole thing came about, Emma wanted it, she _still_ wants it, and she’ll have it.

“Good night, then,” Emma says, making a bold move and kissing the scar on Regina’s upper lip.

“Good night, Sheriff,” Regina whispers. At Emma’s “are you kidding me?” look, she corrects, “Emma.”

Emma manages to pull herself away to open the front door. She bounds outside, energized and pleased with herself to no end. Before she can decide against it, she jogs around the side of the house and looks for the frog Henry mentioned. Her boots sink into the mud, but as soon as she spots the frog, she goes right to it. Hesitating only for a moment, she picks it up, and the moon chooses that moment to emerge from behind the clouds. The light reflects on the silver key, and Emma laughs to herself before replacing the frog.

Yeah. It was definitely a good night.

~the end

Prompt: Regina gets into some kind of embarrassing situation at home (e.g. locks herself out in nothing but a towel) and Emma is the first person to stumble across her?


End file.
